


Lifeboat

by ExtraordinaryElliot



Series: Musical Angst [ multi ] [4]
Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Heathers, Angst, Cutting, Feelings, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Pining, Pining Heather McNamara, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 04:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11268063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtraordinaryElliot/pseuds/ExtraordinaryElliot
Summary: Heather M. - thought to be a bully, when she's really just a girl hiding behind a shitty attitude and pretty face. She's been struggling with thoughts of suicide since her early teen years, and the death of her best friend, Heather C., just sets that off even more.When she hears that Veronica, her newest friend, committed suicide, Heather loses it.___________________________Heather yelled, throwing her fist forwards and smashing it against the mirror. Shards of glass flew outwards, a few scratching against her face. Heather was left staring at a distorted image of herself - a broken mirror fit for a broken girl.





	Lifeboat

**Author's Note:**

> FUCKING TRIGGER WARNING DON'T READ IF SENSITIVE TO:  
> \- cutting/self-harm  
> \- suicide

Heather McNamara was not the bitch everyone thought she was. On the outside, she was makeup and shitty actions that indirectly caused Martha Dunnstock to commit suicide. On the inside, she was a broken girl in a broken world, wishing for a better way outside. On both sides, she was stuck in a lifeboat with nowhere to go.

Except she'd been rescued from the lifeboat by Veronica Sawyer, a girl who was now her friend after years of being bullied by Heather.

And Heather couldn't ask for a better friend.

But maybe she could ask her friend for a little something more.

Heather wouldn't say she was gay - not outright, at least. That was something you never said in 1989. But she couldn't deny her feelings for Veronica, especially the feelings of just wanting to hold her and kiss her and make things right.

How did Veronica feel?

Heather would never find out.

"Miss McNamara, could you follow me?" Heather looked up from her spot on the bench, meeting the sad eyes of Mrs. Fleming. The older woman motioned for her to follow her, outside of the gym. Having nothing better to do for the next twenty minutes before the pep rally, Heather got to her feet and followed her teacher. The woman's red hair was nearly blinding in the sunlight - or maybe that was Heather's eyes adjusting to being outside for the first time in weeks since her little episode of live TV. She had stayed inside, crying her eyes out while her parents were out.

Veronica had found her. Stopped her. The thought made Heather smile, if even a bit, and put her back into a happier mood.

"What's going on, Mrs. Fleming?" Heather asked. She figured the woman had simply brought her out to have a talk about her thoughts of killing herself, which Heather supposed she could handle. She'd already spoken with her parents about it. A little bit, at least. Most of her rants had been thrown upon Veronica, though. And the other girl had understood, had stayed by her side. They had been playing cricket when Heather Duke had come to them. Then Veronica had disappeared, likely going to see Martha Dunnstock, who was in the hospital after a failed suicide attempt.

Maybe Heather would go see her, too. Apologize for everything she had ever said or done. Apologize for the note. Aologize and beg for forgiveness.

"How do I say this, Heather ... it's your friend, Veronica Sawyer," Mrs. Fleming began. Heather felt the smile slip from her face, felt her body begin to tense up. "I've just been informed that she, uh, took her own life an hour ago."

_Yo, girl. Keep it together._

"I'm sorry?"

_The weakest must go._

"Heather, dear, are you alright?"

_The tiniest lifeboat._

"No." Heather's voice cracked on the word, years beginning to make her vision blurry. Mrs. Fleming frowned, reaching out to place her hand on Heather's shoulder. Heather jerked away, ears ringing. Mrs. Fleming opened her voice to speak, but Heather interrupted. "No! She's not- Veronica isn't like that! Veronica HELPS people, she doesn't kill herself She didn't kill herself!" Heather shouted.

"Heather McNamara, lower your-" She took off, ignoring the shouts from Mrs. Fleming to get back, to talk to her. She needed to get out, to think. Why hadn't Veronica gone to her? Were they not close enough? Was it a split-second decision? Had Veronica not planned it? There were too many questions and not enough answers. _Where's Veronica? Dead?_

_No. Not Veronica, anyone but Veronica._

Out of breath by the time she arrived at the bathrooms, Heather felt the tears begin to flow. She closed the bathroom door behind her and locked it, going to the mirror. Her eyes were red, tears spilling past her eyes. Heather ran her hands through her hair, tugging it hard. She needed something to distract her, some pain that would take Veronica off her mind. But she couldn't. All her mind screamed was Veronica. _Veronica, Veronica, Veronica, Veronica!_

_Veronica is dead._

Heather yelled, throwing her fist forwards and smashing it against the mirror. Shards of glass flew outwards, a few scratching against her face. Heather was left staring at a distorted image of herself - a broken mirror fit for a broken girl. "Veronica," she whimpered, falling to her knees. Glass dug into her skin, but Heather ignored it. It didn't matter anymore - all she was left with was Heather Duke, the wicked bitch of the west. Her only friend. _Friend? Is that what she is? Or is she simply someone you hang out with to stop your anxiety? But why does she cause you anxiety?_

Was Heather willing to give that up? Friendship?

Was Heather willing to say that Heather Duke was worse than Heather Chandler?

Yes.

_I am._

Slowly, Heather let her hands reach out, roam the floor. She found a bigger piece of glass, one that had fallen to the floor before it hit her, thank God. But now Heather would let it fulfill its destiny. She dropped the sharp back onto the ground to pull up her left sleeve. Then she grabbed the glass again, holding it at her wrist. She brought it down and took a deep breath before dragging it down her wrist, cutting into her veins and watching the blood begin to spill over.

"Guess I'm joining Heather in hell!" Heather exclaimed, laying herself down on the cold, tiled floor of the school bathroom. She laughed, harder than she'd laughed before. Because now she was happy. Happier than before, at least. But...

Was she was happy with Veronica? Yes. No doubt.

But was Veronica here?

No.

Veronica was dead.

 _Have I earned the red scrunchie?_ she thought, mind buzzing as black spots began appearing in her vision. _Can I get off the damn lifeboat - the easy way?_

No.

She couldn't.

Heather began to weep for what could have been.


End file.
